Closer to the Heart
by The Laughing Libra
Summary: HM: FoMT, Gotz x Ann. After the deaths of his wife and his daughter, Gotz swore he'd never let anyone get close to him again. Can a certain redheaded innkeeper's daughter find a way into his heart?
1. Winter 11 – A Snowstorm of Memories

Closer to the Heart

By The Laughing Libra

* * *

Summary:_ (HM: FoMT) Gotz x Ann. After the deaths of his wife and his daughter, Gotz swore he'd never let anyone get close to him again. Can a certain redheaded innkeeper's daughter find a way into his heart?_

* * *

Closer to the Heart

Winter 11 – A Snowstorm of Memories

* * *

Gotz laid fully clothed upon the bed, staring forlornly up at the ceiling. Today would have been his daughter's eighth birthday.

He glanced at the window. It was snowing lightly today. His daughter had loved the snow, so much so that he used to call her his little Snowflake, like the child from the Russian fairy tale.

He remembered how delighted she was when, on her fifth birthday, she woke up to find it snowing lightly, just like it was today. His wife decided to treat her to a trip to the top of the mountain so she could see, for the very first time, all three towns in their sprawling county in their snow-covered glory. The little girl was so excited. Gotz, always a better cook than his wife, stayed behind to prepare the girl's birthday dinner. He kissed them both goodbye before they set out.

He knew that, by the time they reached the peak, it was likely snowing too hard to see much of anything, but he always held on to the hope that they _did_ manage to see something. It was comforting to think that his daughter's last moments had been the happiest ones of her life, rather than filled with shattering disappointment. However, all he knew for sure was that from the way that her body was positioned, it was on the way back _down_ from the peak that his wife slipped and broke her neck. His daughter was evidently too frightened to leave the mother and seek help, because when they finally found her after the storm had passed, her little frozen body was curled up against her mother's.

The funeral had been agony. He hated how his wife's friends would pat his shoulder and try to talk to him about her, how their husbands would try to sympathize when they could never understand his pain, how his daughter's schoolmates would stare up at him with wide eyes, too young to know what to say to a grieving man.

The funeral had been his last true contact with humanity. After that, he stopped going into the village and became a virtual hermit. The only times he would go into town were when he needed to go to the supermarket for supplies, but no one dared talk to him during those rare visits. A few family friends had tried for a while to keep up contact with him, but he discouraged that by being extremely short and unpleasant during every exchange. Soon even Sasha, the most persistent of his wife's friends, gave up on him, and left him to the solitude he so obviously desired.

From the moment he realized his wife and child were truly gone, it became too painful to think of them. Gotz had packed up all his daughter's clothes and toys in a trunk he kept hidden under the bed, and all his wife's things in a larger trunk he kept locked in the back of his storage shed. There wasn't a visible trace of either of them left in the house.

Still, removing things that reminded him of them didn't wipe his memory clean. Gotz sighed. This had to be the worst day of the year. It was on this day that echoes of his daughter's laughter seemed clearest, that he kept half-expecting to see one of his wife's embroidery projects draped over a chair, that he'd look at the bed and wonder for a moment why his wife hadn't made it yet before remembering _exactly_ why.

That's why, this year, Gotz decided the best way to silence his memories was by laying on a neatly made bed, staring resolutely at the ceiling. However, he kept bringing up memories by periodically congratulating himself on how well he was avoiding them. _Damn_, he thought. _Try not to think of a white elephant, and that's what you get._

Eventually, he decided it was a losing battle and got up. He was hungry and wanted to make some breakfast. He went into the fridge, took out the pitcher of milk, frowned at how light it was, and looked inside. Empty. He had expressly done a big shopping trip on Sunday so he could completely avoid any reason to go to town today, but he had apparently forgotten to buy milk. He hated taking coffee without it. He closed the refrigerator door with a grunt and started to fill the coffeemaker with water. Well, he'd just have to deal with it—what was one more unpleasant thing on top of a day already filled with misery? Grumpily, he opened a coffee filter with a snap and spooned in enough grounds to ensure a _very_ strong pot of coffee. Harder than he intended to, he jabbed the "on" button with his finger.

Nothing happened.

Gotz stared at the coffeemaker, dumbstruck. No. This couldn't be happening. He _needed_ coffee. He couldn't get through this day with a caffeine headache on top of everything. He checked to see if the coffeemaker was plugged in, and it was. Tentatively, he pressed the "on" button again, and then again, and again, and again, each time more frantic.

Nothing.

He cursed, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs and burying his head in his hands. Now he had to decide what was stronger, his hatred for company or his caffeine addiction. He rubbed his temples with his fingers. Well, if he was really honest with himself, the answer was obvious. He started to pull on his snowboots.

* * *

On his way to the supermarket, Gotz ran into Officer Harris, the one person he still had regular contact with. Despite Gotz's protests, Harris insisted on patrolling the mountain everyday, in all weather. Since Gotz couldn't stop him, he begrudgingly allowed Harris to rest himself in his cabin afterwards, so at least if something happened to Harris, Gotz would know immediately. Fortunately, Harris showed up safely everyday like clockwork. Despite himself, Gotz began to actually look forward to having the young policeman in the house for an hour or so each day. Harris was chatty, but not annoyingly so, and knew better than to bring up anything… or anyone… Gotz would rather not talk about.

Harris was very surprised to see him. "Gotz! What are you doing here? Is something wrong?" he asked in concern.

"No, no… I need to go shopping, that's all," Gotz mumbled.

"Oh." Harris raised his eyebrows shrewdly. "Is that it? It's just that, I mean, Mayor Thomas told me that today was…" Harris interrupted himself with a cough, smart enough not to complete the sentence. "Hmpf. Excuse me. Anyway, sometimes people just like some company, that's all." He gave Gotz a small smile and rocked on the heels of his feet.

"Perhaps. _I_, however, need to go shopping. My coffeemaker is broken," Gotz answered with annoyance, not liking the direction of the conversation.

"Ah," said Harris, and Gotz got the feeling that Harris didn't quite believe him. Gotz went from annoyed to irritated. He wished that nosy mayor would tell Harris that Gotz _liked_ spending this day alone. As if he were pathetic enough to pretend to break his _coffeemaker_, of all things, in a feeble attempt to have an excuse to be among people. Well, it was no skin off his nose if that was what Harris wanted to think. He certainly wasn't going to take the time to debate it. Every moment he spent in town was a moment too long.

"Well, bye," Gotz grunted brusquely, deciding that he'd leave all his outdoor chores for when Harris showed up to warm himself this afternoon. It was a shame, really. Harris seemed to be the one person in town who understood him and here he turned out to be just the same as everyone else. Well, hopefully, Harris would be back to normal tomorrow.

"Bye," Harris answered cheerfully. "But you do realize that the supermarket is closed today. It's Tuesday."

Gotz's eyes widened. "I completely forgot!" he said, dumbfounded. It had been so long since he went shopping on a weekday that there was no reason to remember.

"Uh-huh," said Harris, in that annoyingly disbelieving voice. "I guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow." There was a studied pause. "But you know who has good coffee? Doug's Inn. I'm not doing anything in particular right now, if you want to have breakfast with me. It'd be my treat." He gave Gotz another sympathetic smile.

Gotz very much wanted to tell Harris where he could shove his sympathy and then storm back home. But that wouldn't get him any of his much needed coffee. He gritted his teeth. "Fine," he growled, deciding that from now on he'd _always_ leave his outdoor chores for when Harris showed up to warm himself in the afternoons. Silently, he allowed Harris to lead the way to the inn.

* * *

Gotz sat in one of the scrubbed wooden chairs, drumming his fingers on the table and feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He could barely remember the last time he was around so many people. Some of them were familiar. Over in the corner was Jack, whose barn Gotz had rebuilt last fall, sitting by himself while sipping coffee and reading the paper. To the left of Jack was one of his daughter's old schoolmates, happily eating Belgian waffles with her aging grandfather. At the table across from her was a dark-haired woman who was one of his wife's friends from high school, and it took him a few moments before he could remember that her name was Manna. He also remembered that she had a husband, Duke—there he was carrying a bloody mary and a mimosa back from the bar—and a daughter, Aja, who was nowhere to be seen. Gotz was mildly surprised before grimacing in recollection. Of _course_ Aja wasn't here—the moment Aja had hit her teenaged years she went from a smiling ray of sunshine to a moody storm cloud, clad only in black clothes, black lipstick, and black nail polish.

Looking at the couple, Gotz felt that wave of understanding sympathy that occurred whenever one encountered fellow parents who have inexplicably difficult children. Things must be really tough with Aja for Manna and Duke—it was quite noticeable to Gotz that Manna and Duke were much less happy then they had been in former years. What a shame. Why, he could still remember the broad smiles they wore when they and he and his wife used to—

Halting his train of thought as quickly as he could, Gotz quickly looked back down at the table. _What was he doing?!_ He didn't want to speculate about these people's lives—he didn't want to think of them at all. This was exactly the sort of thing he had been always so careful to avoid. He closed his eyes, and despite himself, a memory of his wife being pushed towards him by Manna and a pink haired friend, who remained giggling in the background as she asked shyly, "Do you want to go see the fireworks with me?" floated before his eyes.

_Damn, damn, damn._ Screw breakfast, he was going to get his coffee to go and go home.

"Ah, here's the waitress," said Harris, and Gotz silently thanked the powers that be.

"Hi, I'm Ann. Here are your menus, but we also have several specials this morning to celebrate our beloved proprietor's birthday! Would you like to hear them?" came the waitress' cheerful voice. Gotz opened his eyes to see a redheaded young woman, around the same age as his wife in the vision, looking at him expectantly.

"No. Coffee. To go," he muttered.

"What? What about breakfast?" Harris protested.

"Yeah, what about breakfast?" Ann repeated. "Don't you know we've got the best food in town? I recommend the silver dollar pancakes with maple syrup and sausages, but if you'd prefer an egg dish, we've gotten some fresh off the poultry farm this morning," she added temptingly.

"I don't have time," Gotz replied, shaking his head.

"Don't have time?" she said, raising her eyebrows impishly. "I haven't even taken your order yet and you're already expecting the service to be slow? How incompetent a waitress do I look?" She wrinkled her nose up and smiled as she said this, so Gotz would know she wasn't serious in her accusation.

Gotz glanced over at her. She certainly didn't look incompetent; she was one of those tomboy types, very muscular and energetic. Gotz looked away from her as he started to speak. "Of course it's not you—"

She snapped her fingers smartly. "Ah, I understand. It's not the service, but the _chef_ you expect to be slow," she said, grinning. "I can fix that." Before Gotz could realize what she was about to do, or he certainly would have stopped her, she turned around and bellowed, "_DAAAAAAAD! Get your butt over here!"_

"Not so loud, Ann! Young ladies don't yell! Jeez!" came the reply from an exasperated redheaded man poking his head out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah, Dad. Tell me, what's the fastest breakfast you can get me?"

Her father looked confused. "The fastest? I can have scrambled eggs and toast ready in five minutes. Why?"

"There!" said Ann triumphantly to Gotz. "You can't tell me that you don't have five minutes. So now you have to stay and eat."

Gotz, however, didn't hear her. Ann had drawn a lot of attention to their table and, looking around, Gotz saw that Manna had noticed him. She was whispering to Duke, and it was pretty clear that she was planning to come over.

Gotz slammed his hands onto the table and stood up suddenly, startling Ann, who gave a little shriek and jumped back. "I'm going to go," he said, and without a further hesitation, or a single cup of coffee, he strode out of the inn.

* * *

Gotz spent a couple of hours stomping moodily around the forest, cursing Manna. _Why couldn't she have been having breakfast at home? _he thought sulkily, wishing he had a cup of coffee. When he finally drifted back towards his cabin, he realized there was a figure waiting by the front door. That surprised him; Harris wasn't due for another few hours. Could Jack want something? Coming closer, but still staying hidden in the trees, he saw it was the red haired waitress wrapped up in a parka. He certainly didn't feel like talking to anyone anymore today, but looking closer at her, he saw that she was holding a large thermos. _Coffee!_

Noisily, so as not to startle her, he emerged from the woods. She turned around, and he saw she was also holding a parcel tied up in paper with the words "Doug's Inn" printed all over it. It was almost certainly food.

"Oh, hi…!" she began, but contrary to her display of behavior before, words suddenly failed her. Suddenly she recollected herself. "A peace offering!" she said, holding out the thermos.

_Peace offering?_ He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he didn't care. He took the thermos from her. "Thanks," he said as he unlocked his door. He walked in, making a beeline for the nearest coffee cup.

He didn't invite her in, but he didn't close the door after himself, either. He left it to her to take that as she pleased. She took it as an invitation and came in.

"Along with the coffee you didn't get to have, I also brought the breakfast you didn't get to have," she chuckled weakly as she unpacked it from the box. It was the pancake breakfast she had recommended. "I'm sorry I ruined your whole dining experience."

Gotz finished his first cup of coffee in one deep swallow and immediately poured another. "You ruined it?" he frowned.

"Yeah… Dad's always after me to be quieter and more ladylike, but it's not really me. Most of the customers are used to me being loud and crass, but I should remember to restrain myself around somebody new. I'm sorry I embarrassed you," she said, looking quite embarrassed herself.

"Oh…" He really wouldn't have cared that she yelled across the room to her father if it hadn't brought him to Manna's attention. "It's okay," he said truthfully.

"No, it's not! This made me realize that my behavior is bad for business! So if I make it up to you, would you consider ever coming back to the inn?"

"Make it up to me?" Gotz could only repeat dumbly. He didn't like the sound of it. "Listen, don't take it personally, but I'm not really the dining out type. The whole thing was Harris' idea. So if I don't ever come back—"

Her face, which was red from embarrassment to begin with, quickly started to crumple. "I knew it! I was really awful! Who knows how many new customers I've cost Dad!"

"Hey, now—" Gotz tried to interject, but she was on a self-deprecating roll.

"No, you don't understand! I've always known I've been a disappointment to him as a daughter, but I _thought_ I could make it up to him by being a big help at the inn. But _now_ I know that I actually… I actually…" She rubbed her eyes roughly to hold back tears, unable to finish the sentence.

Gotz was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to make this young woman cry. "You know, fathers can never be truly…" he started to say, but thoughts of his own daughter stopped him abruptly. He chewed on his lower lip, desperate to switch topics. He said the first thing that popped into his head. "Ah… what did you mean by 'making it up to me?'" he asked hesitantly, reasoning that if she were talking, she wouldn't be able to cry.

Just as he hoped, she immediately started brushing her eyes and nose, collecting herself. She looked at him hopefully. "It won't be that much! I just want to show you that I know how a proper innkeeper's daughter should act! I'll make coffee and breakfast like a professional chef and I'll serve it like a normal, ladylike waitress would… and I'll do some cleaning!" she added, eyeing the layer of dust on the furniture and the sawdust tracks on the floor. "I'm actually really, really good at cleaning! And I'll do it quietly, like a real maid, so you won't even know I'm here!"

Gotz grimaced. He didn't like the idea of having to see this young woman all week. Today was bad enough.

She saw he wasn't too impressed with her offer, so she added, "And you won't even have to come back and eat at the inn! All I ask is that at the end of it, you tell my dad if I did a good job or not. You can write a note, if you don't want to tell him in person. Please?"

Gotz was about to turn her down as tactfully as he could when, sensing the rejection, she quickly clasped her hands together in desperate supplication. "Please?" she asked again in a smaller voice. "You can't imagine what it's like for me. I know I mess up a lot. I try really hard, but it feels impossible sometimes to know how to act all girlish and proper when I've been raised by only a dad as a tomboy. Sometimes I wish I could be just like Popuri."

Potpourri? The last sentence made no sense to Gotz, but he started to feel a great deal of sympathy for Ann and her father. How would his own daughter have turned out if she had lived through the storm and he had to have raised her single-handed?

Ann, her hands still clasped, looked down sadly at the floor. "You can't believe how badly I let Dad down today. I-I just want an opportunity to make him proud of me…"

That tugged at Gotz's heartstrings. He made a face as he said extremely begrudgingly, "Well… I guess you can come for one day."

"One day!" Ann exclaimed, probably louder than she intended to. Checking herself, she said at a more controlled volume, "Anybody can do it for _one_ _day_. What will that prove?! How about five days?"

He glared at her. "Three. Three days."

She considered it for a moment and then smiled. "Okay, I'll take it. Don't worry, you won't regret it."

_Too late for that,_ Gotz thought.

Ann stood up and stretched. "Well, I need to get back to work, but I'll be back first thing tomorrow. I hope you like the breakfast, 'cause I made it myself." She walked to the door, bowing respectfully and saying, "Thank you very much for this opportunity" like a true professional, but ruined it by wrinkling her nose and following it up with a boisterously loud "See you tomorrow! Bye!" and a cheesy grin as she headed out the door.

After she was gone, Gotz sat down and sniffed at the food. It smelled good. He picked up a fork. It tasted good too, even though it was cold. She must have been waiting for him for quite a while. She was certainly persistent_. It was a shame Ann's father seemed so determined to squelch her personality,_ he thought, taking another bite. She was loud, sure, but she had a natural cheerfulness that drew people in. Still, he reminded himself as he took a sip of her very good coffee, he'd be glad when his contact with her was over. Very glad.


	2. Winter 12 – Clean Kitchen, Dirty Mind

Closer to the Heart

Winter 12 – Clean Kitchen, Dirty Mind

* * *

Ann, bundled up in a sky blue parka and matching scarf, knocked on Gotz's door promptly at 6 am. As she waited for him to answer the door, she turned around and squinted up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the falling snow with her hand. The sky was way too overcast to see the sunrise. That was a pity.

She turned back around at the sound of the door unlocking. When it opened, she suppressed a laugh. Though _she_ had already been up for a while now, it was clear that Gotz hadn't.

"Heeeeeeyyy. Nice pjs. I see you work out," she said, a cat-like grin plastered across her face.

Gotz, still squinty-eyed with sleep, looked down at his pajamas bottoms and open pajamas shirt, then back up at Ann with severely reddened cheeks, which only made Ann grin harder. He hurriedly turned away from her and started buttoning his shirt. "What are you doing here so early?" he asked in annoyance.

"Well, I still have to help Dad with the breakfast rush so I thought I'd come feed you early," Ann answered, coming in and shedding her coat. She hung it and her scarf on a hook by the fireplace. She felt a little embarrassed as she admitted, "I thought that you, as a woodsman, would be up already. But I see I was mistaken. I'm sorry to have woken you."

He grunted, and after a moment she decided that it was his way of saying "no problem." She smiled in relief as she asked, "So when _do_ you start your day?"

"I usually get up at 9:00 and start working at 11:00. I don't have a very high demand profession."

Ann whistled appreciatively. "Man, am I in the wrong line of work! It must be great to get to sleep in until 9:00! But running an inn you always have to be up before your guests." She smiled and flexed her biceps. "Maybe I'll become a woodsman. I could chop wood easily. What'da'ya think?"

Gotz answered her seriously. "Well, I did used to be a lot busier. Back when Barley was younger and Jack's grandfather was alive, their farms were busy places and required a lot of maintenance. I was constantly working on them. The chicken farm, too—I built their waterwheel, you know. I was always up with the dawn. But things change. People age and slow down, and people die—" he stopped abruptly, before continuing moodily, "I have less of a reason to get up nowadays. But it's not a big deal. I get enough work to support myself."

Ann nodded, not really knowing what to say. This guy was so serious that she was really out of her element.

"Well, today you're going to get the best meal of your life!" she said brightly. "Where's the kitchen?" Gotz pointed. She winked and grinned. "Right-o!! And that will be the only contribution you have to make to breakfast. As your personal chef, I will completely handle things from here on in. All _you_ have to do is sit back and wait. Awesome, huh?"

Rather than answering her directly, Gotz mumbled something about getting dressed and drifted down a hallway which Ann assumed led to the master bedroom. "I'm glad you agree!" she called cheerfully into the empty air, pleased that she was learning to read him. _Well, no time to waste!_ she thought.

She pulled off her snow covered shoes and left them to dry by the fire, then walked eagerly in her socks to the kitchen to check it out. It was cramped, but she could make do. "Let's see what we have to work with," she said to herself, opening the fridge. "Eggs, excellent!" she said, taking them out. Rooting around, she was pleased to see she had enough ingredients to make an omelet.

She turned on the burner and cracked a few eggs into the frying pan she found hanging over the sink. She hummed to herself as she cooked. In a little bit she saw Gotz slouch into the living room, taking a chair at the dinning room table with a book. "Five minutes to chow time! Gettin' hungry?" she asked brightly. He shrugged, not looking up from his book. She frowned. She wasn't sure if he meant, "Yes, ravenous" or "Eh, whatever." They both seemed equally likely. "I guess I'm not as good at reading him as I thought," she muttered to herself.

When she was done cooking, she placed a clean dishtowel over her arm and took his plate over to him, presenting it with a flourish. "Bon appetite, good sir!"

He glanced up at her for a second, but she couldn't read his expression. Then he looked down at the plate and wordlessly started to eat.

Part of her wanted to hang over him and bug him until he pronounced an opinion on her cooking, but she reminded herself that she promised to leave him alone as much as possible. Instead, she went back to the kitchen to clean up. Besides needing to wash the cooking utensils she had used, it was evident that Gotz didn't wipe his counters down very carefully. She could see crumbs and dust in the corners. Ann hunted around in the cabinets for the cleaning supplies. When she finally found them under the sink, she rolled her eyes. It was never a good sign when the cleaning supplies themselves were gathering dust. She picked up various containers and shook them, shaking her head. There wasn't enough left of anything here to clean a messy house as big as this one. Well, she'd bring some stuff from home when she came back later.

She was scrubbing the frying pan when he came in with his plate. "I need to go into town," he told her.

"Oh, wait for me," she said, elbow deep in soapsuds, disappointed she didn't get to clear his place like she should have. "I'm going to head home when I'm done washing this. But I will need to come back later to _really_ clean the kitchen."

He started to protest but apparently decided it wasn't worth the bother. "I'll leave the door unlocked," he said.

She nodded and took the dish from him and put it in the water. He went back inside.

After she was done, she found him already in his coat and ready to go. "Just a second…" she said, pulling on her shoes.

"All ready!" she smiled. "Let's go!" She followed him out into the snow.

* * *

Ann and Gotz walked in silence into town. Ann, huffing and puffing, hurried to keep up with Gotz's longer strides, but still she remained consistently two steps behind him. She had been doing this for twenty minutes, and she was beginning to feel a little annoyed. Sure, she knew Gotz was famous for not liking people, but jeez, after all she was doing for him, you'd think he'd be a little nicer to her. But then again, being rude is what got him where he was today.

It had been so long since she'd seen him that she hadn't recognized the widower at all when he had come into the inn yesterday. Of course, she justified to herself, the last time she had seen him was three years ago at his wife and kid's funeral, and he didn't have that thick beard then.

However, her _dad_ had recognized him and was mightily upset when Ann scared Gotz off. Ann felt very ashamed of herself by the time her dad had finished yelling at her. She knew that her dad really empathized with Gotz. She remember how choked up Dad had gotten at the funeral three years ago, obviously remembering the one for his own wife. She had ended up asking Father Carter to make their excuses to Gotz and taking Dad, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably the whole way, back to the inn.

It was clear how much Dad needed the break from the funeral, but he always spoke regretfully to Ann about how shabby he felt about leaving early, even though they weren't really friends with the woodsman's family. But after that, Gotz started avoiding company and there was no chance for Dad to apologize.

And yesterday, Ann ruined Dad's chance, and on his birthday no less. She felt like a terrible daughter. But even after her blunder, she still felt that it wasn't too late to fix it. Still very upset with herself, she hurried down to Gotz's house with the intent to apologize to him and do her damnedest to beg him to come back to the inn so Dad could apologize to him, too. Sure, she hadn't expected to wait out on Gotz's doorstep in the snow for over an hour until he came home, but at least it gave her time to come up with her plan.

While freezing her butt off out there, she started to think that it would be unlikely that Gotz would agree to go and socialize with Dad right off the bat. After all, this guy had worn down _Sasha_, of all people, who made a point of visiting everyone in the village at least once a week. Ann decided to extend her apology by offering to doing chores around Gotz's house, giving her more time to convince him to go back to the inn and meet with her dad. And even if, after her time was up, he still refused to do it, Dad could still feel good that his daughter did her best to make the man happy for a few days.

Unfortunately, Ann wouldn't really classify Gotz's mood this morning as "happy." _Well_, _it was only the first morning_, she reasoned to herself_. _She couldn't expect too much progress this early. Still, by the end of all this, she hoped she _would_ make significant progress. Even though she started doing all this for Dad, she found that despite his gruff exterior, she liked Gotz, and thought it would be a very good thing for him if she could coax him into going into society more.

With renewed determination, she quickly sprinted a few steps and finally caught up with him. "So what are you going to town for anyway?" she asked.

"Coffeemaker," he replied, looking resolutely ahead.

"Oh," she said. "Well, you know, you could always just stop in at the inn for coffee. And I'm sure Dad would give you a discount if you felt like making it a daily thing."

"That's okay," he said tersely. From his tone, Ann realized that any more attempt at conversation would just irritate him. They lapsed once again into silence.

They stayed that way until they finally reached the inn. "Well, this is where I get off," Ann said. "I don't suppose I could convince you to—"

"No," he interrupted firmly.

_Knew it wouldn't be that easy,_ thought Ann. "Well, then, I'll be back at your house by noon to do some cleaning."

"Fine," he answered, and started heading in the direction of the supermarket.

"Bye!" she called after his retreating form, and felt kind of disappointed that he didn't answer back. _This is going to be a long three days_, she thought. With a sigh, she entered the inn.

* * *

"I'm home!" Ann called to her dad as she poked her head into the kitchen.

"You're needed out front!" her dad called back.

"I know, I already took the order." She had seen as she walked through the restaurant area that Gray was already awake and ready to be waited on. She was pleased, because yesterday she had overheard Jack telling Barley all about the new Cheesemaker he had just ordered from the Blacksmith. She hoped that Gray's being up so early meant that Saibara was finally enlisting Gray's help to build a project, and a very complicated one at that. "Here it is," she said as she handed the order over to Doug.

"Thanks," he said, and started assembling ingredients.

"No problem. By the way, I told Gotz that I was going to go back over to his house around noon. I'll have the guys' dormitory cleaned out by then, so don't worry," Ann said while tying on her apron. She opened the fridge and started assembling a small fruit cup as a little "Good luck!" present for Gray. She was sure the boy could use every boost of confidence he could get.

"How did it go with Gotz this morning?" Doug asked.

"Great!" she replied enthusiastically. "He didn't throw me out!"

Doug frowned. "Ann, be serious for once."

"Well, not the best," she admitted, "but he didn't throw me out."

Doug sighed. "Well, I guess that's something," he said. His ingredients prepared, he started cooking. "You should get back out there, you know. Cliff will probably come down soon."

"Okay," she replied.

He looked at her critically. "You know, you'd probably still have time to change before he got up. You could put your hair down and put on something a little brighter."

"Dad, I'm already wearing yellow," she said, tugging on one of her shirt sleeves. "How much brighter can I get?"

He scowled. "You know what I mean." He shook his head. "How will you ever find a boyfriend if you keep dressing up like you're about to muck out the barn?"

Ann looked down at her overalls. "Well, Jack would probably like it. I'm sure he'd appreciate a girlfriend who could help him muck out his barn."

"You should want to look nice for Jack! You're trying to be his girlfriend, not his farmhand!" Doug snapped.

"I'm not trying to be his anything, Dad!" Ann said, reddening. "It was just an example!"

Doug slammed a saucepan on the stove. "You never try! That's exactly why you don't _have_ a boyfriend! Here I am, another year older—I'm not going to live forever, you know! After I die, do you want to end up an old spinster with no one to take care of you?"

"I can take care of myself, Dad! And it's not like you're not going to die anytime soon! Jeez!" She picked up her fruit cup in a huff and stormed out of the kitchen. Damn, he was in one of _those_ moods again. She hated when he got like that.

Pushing it out of her mind, she walked over to Gray's table. "Hey there, Gray! Anticipating a busy day?" she asked him with a grin, hoping for a positive answer.

"Yeah," he said with a small smile. "I'm helping Grandpa make something for Jack."

"Awesome!" she said. "So you'll need a champion's breakfast! In light of that, here's a little something to keep your strength up until the main course comes." She set the fruit cup in front of him. "It's on the house."

Ann felt really gratified when Gray, who rarely smiled to begin with, smiled yet again as he thanked her. _If only it were that easy with Gotz, _she thought with an inward sigh, and rushed off to seat Elli and Stu, who had just came in. By the time she was done Cliff had come down stairs and had taken a seat with Gray.

"Good morning," she said to Cliff.

He blushed and murmured, "Morning…"

She smiled. He was always so shy. "What can I get ya?" she asked.

"Just some orange juice…" he said, looking down at the table.

"One orange juice coming right up!" She grinned at him and he blushed again. She wish he'd order a bigger breakfast, but she knew he couldn't afford it. She hoped he'd finally find a job soon—he was looking too thin.

After her shift was over, she ended up having to cut her usual post-breakfast chat with Cliff short because she needed to head over to Gotz's. She felt sorry for it; even though she always did most of the talking while Cliff stared at his shoes and nodded, he seemed to enjoy it.

As she started throwing some cleaning products from the supply closet into her backpack, she was struck with a sudden thought and decided to go buy some new supplies from the market before going to Gotz's. He'd need his own supplies, after all, and she thought her new idea would be cute. Bundling up and tossing her backpack over her shoulder, she headed out into the cold.

* * *

Having quickly procured and set up his coffeemaker, Gotz made sure to be out of the house at noon, when Ann said she'd show back up. He chopped wood and worked out in the shed for as long as he could possibly stand it, but eventually the desire to be near a warm fireplace became overwhelming. _Well,_ he thought, _she was probably gone by now, and Harris would be here soon. Now is a good time to warm up._

When Gotz walked inside he was surprised to find a fire still roaring cheerfully in the grate. _That's dangerous,_ he thought to himself. _I would have thought that Ann was less careless than that._ Still, nothing was damaged and at the moment the fire was welcome, so he wouldn't let it bother him now; he'd scold her about it when he saw her tomorrow.

However, when he entered the kitchen to get something warm to drink, he discovered that the reason the fire was still going was because Ann was still there.

Ann stood in the middle of the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear. Gotz was floored; the kitchen was so clean it was absolutely dazzling. The only dirty thing in it was Ann, who was sweaty from work and had dust smeared on her face and overalls. "You like…?" she asked with a grin.

Gotz was deeply impressed. "Yeah. Wow. It smells…" Gotz began, trying to pin the scent down.

"Pine-fresh?" Ann supplied eagerly.

"Uh, yeah…"

"Uh-huh. Usually I like to use orange scented things, but I thought this was more apropos for a woodsman, eh?" She did that cheesy grin of hers again. It was actually rather endearing. "I just bought the supplies today and I left them under your counter. What you had left wasn't good anymore."

"Oh. What do I owe you for them?" he asked, still looking around to room.

"Well, don't worry about it now, we can work it out later," she said, reaching for her coat. "I want to go take a bath before I have to go back to work, so I should leave now."

"You've still got to work at the inn after you worked there all morning and did all this work here?" Gotz asked, incredulous. This girl was more energetic than he thought.

"Well, I don't _have_ to, but I like to help dad out by pulling a double shift whenever I can," she answered. "Besides, you probably want to be by yourself, right?"

Gotz frowned and didn't answer. She took that as a confirmation and nodded—a little sadly. She pulled on her winter things. "So I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she said with a small wave. She headed for the door.

Gotz wrestled with himself. It wasn't like he wanted her here a moment longer than she needed to be, but she _did_ do so much work…

"Well, I guess you can take it here," he suddenly said. She turned around and looked at him in surprise—she was halfway to the door before he managed to get the offer out. He looked away from her and continued, "The bath, I mean. Because you shouldn't go out in the cold when you're sweaty, you know. You'll make yourself sick."

She suddenly smiled and looked genuinely happy at the offer. He felt a little pleased. "Hey, thanks!" she said. "I would, but I don't have a change of clothes."

"Well, there's a washer/dryer in the hallway," he said, surprised at himself for continuing to push the offer.

She considered it. "Well… okay," she finally said, smiling.

He decided it was important that she didn't think he was happy than she was staying further. "Everything you need is in the bathroom. I'll be out here," he said, turning away from her and settling himself in a chair by the fire. He took out a book.

"Cool. I'll be quick," she said, smiling. He grunted in reply, looking studiously down at his book. He heard her disappear down the hallway.

After spending ten minutes or so staring at his book but not really reading it, he heard the front door open. He looked up in surprise; somehow, he forgot that Harris was coming.

"Hi!" said Harris with a smile. "It's cold today, huh?"

"Yeah," said Gotz, not really interested in conversation. He was still annoyed at the policeman, after all.

"Is there tea?" Harris asked.

"There is if you make it."

"Okay, then," Harris said cheerfully, heading for the kitchen. The was a pause before Gotz heard Harris gasp in surprise. "Wow! What did you do in here?!"

"I didn't do anything," Gotz said.

"Well, I've heard of self cleaning ovens, but a self cleaning kitchen is ridiculous," Harris retorted, coming back into the living room. "What happened to it?"

Gotz scowled into his book. "The waitress from the inn cleaned it."

"Ann? Really?" Harris took another look at the kitchen. "Well, it certainly looks like her handiwork. What was she doing here?"

"It's really none of your business," Gotz said bluntly.

"Ah. Well, let me put the kettle up. You want some?" Harris asked.

"No."

"Okey-dokey," Harris said, disappearing back into the kitchen. After a few minutes, he came back into the living room to find Gotz still at his book. "The water's on. I'm just going to run to the bathroom," he informed Gotz.

Gotz nodded absently before realizing just what Harris said. "Wait, you can't," he said, finally looking up.

Harris looked confused. "Why ever not?"

"Because…" Gotz sighed, annoyed at having to explain. "Because that waitress is in there."

"Oh, I didn't realize she was still here!" Harris said. "It's always nice to see Ann. I'll have to ask her if she wants some tea when she comes out."

"Well, she's probably going to be a while," Gotz said. "She's taking a bath."

"Oh, okay—wait, really?" said Harris, pausing in confusion. Gotz could clearly see Harris wondering exactly what sequence of events could lead to the kitchen needing cleaning and the waitress needing a bath. Feeling the irritation building behind his temples, Gotz decided that if Harris opened his mouth, he was going to chuck the book at his head.

Fortunately for Harris, he simply shook his head and kept his suppositions to himself. "Um… I'm going to check on the tea…" he said, even though they both knew there was barely enough time for the water to warm, let alone boil. Gotz didn't care; he was glad that Harris was out of the room.

Presently, Harris came back in with a mug of tea and sat in the chair opposite Gotz's. This was the time Harris usually chatted pleasantly to Gotz, but today the policeman uncomfortably sipped his tea in silence. Gotz suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. _What an idiot,_ he thought.

By the time Harris had finished his tea, Ann emerged from the bathroom, scrubbed clean but still in dirty clothes. "Hey," she said to Gotz. "I decided I didn't want to lounge around the bathroom naked for an hour waiting for my clothes to dry, so I thought it was best that I just put them back on. I'll change when I get back to the inn. Thanks for the offer of the washer, though." She finally noticed the young policeman. "Oh, hi, Harris," she said amiably.

Harris, who went wide-eyed at Ann's mention of the word "naked," looked at her dusty clothes with relief. "Oh, you got dirty cleaning the _kitchen_!" he said.

Ann looked at Harris like he was crazy. "Well, _yeah_. What did you think?" she asked in confusion.

Gotz cleared his throat. "_I _think it's time you both were leaving. Harris, I'm sure you'll be happy to escort Ann home and make sure she arrives safely, huh?"

"Uh, yes!" Harris said, jumping out of his chair. "Let me get your coat," he said to Ann, and gallantly helped her into it. He then put on his own overcoat.

While Harris was busy, Ann took the opportunity to say to Gotz, "So I'll see you tomorrow, but not quite so early, right?"

Gotz shrugged. "Show up whenever you want."

She smiled, wrinkling her nose. "Thanks!" she said.

Harris came over. "Well, shall we get going?" he asked Ann.

"I'm ready!" she answered, smiling. After they both said their goodbyes to Gotz, Harris held the door open for Ann and, with a final wave from Ann, the two disappeared into the snow.

Gotz closed the door behind them with an irritated sigh. What was wrong with Harris, to think such a thing?! What a pervert.

Well, at least Ann heard too little of Harris' supposition to understand it herself. God knows what she would have thought. It would have been embarrassing to see her face when Harris suggested that she and he were… that they had been…

Well, she probably would have been polite enough to hide her derision. Surely she'd want to date someone younger, someone more cheerful than himself. Although, Gotz noted, Harris' assumption _did_ imply that Ann didn't have a boyfriend at present. Not that Gotz cared if she did or not, of course—it was just interesting to know.

Gotz settled back down before the fire once more, finally attaining his goal of being alone for the rest of the day. He shook his head. The house had been entirely too full of people today. He took a moment to allow the silence of the house to fill his ears. Blissful solitude.

Still, once he took up his book he couldn't help but wonder idly how early Ann might come by tomorrow.


	3. Winter 13 – Missing Opportunities

Closer to the Heart

Winter 13 – Missing Opportunities

* * *

The next morning, Ann knocked at Gotz's door promptly at seven. Though she had come a little later to avoid a repeat of yesterday's pajama party, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that, when he answered the door, he was both fully awake and fully dressed.

It was really too bad, Ann thought to herself impishly. He was certainly not at all unpleasant to look at in an open shirt. She grinned internally as she remembered how Gotz had looked, and though she took care that her train of thought didn't show on her face, he still frowned knowingly at her as she entered the house. _How could he know?_ she thought in amazement. Was she that easy to read?

Well, _he _was certainly confusing to read. Perhaps that was why Harris had been able to leap to such a ridiculous conclusion yesterday. Ann had realized, albeit with a slight delayed reaction, from that comment Harris had made that he had thought that she and Gotz were secretly dating, and after explaining the real situation to him, she had teased Harris about his dirty mind all the way home.

She and Gotz, a couple? Where did Harris get his ideas?! She remembered Gotz's wife had been very dainty and refined, exactly the opposite of herself—She couldn't be "dainty" if her life depended on it. She was certainly not Gotz's type, and she had told Harris so.

"Well, he certainly must like you," Harris had replied, defending his position, "or else he'd never agree to let you hang around all week. I've never known him to be so sociable in all the time I've known him."

"Sociable?! Ha," she had scoffed. Still, she was pleased with the compliment. Maybe she would be able to get Gotz to talk to Dad after all.

Greeting Gotz cheerfully as she walked to the fireplace, she removed her snowy outerwear. She was rather surprised to get a clear and coherent reply of "good morning" out of him. _A promising start to the morning,_ she thought happily to herself. However, she had no time to waste, so she headed for the kitchen to start Gotz's breakfast.

She was rather surprised yet again when, a few minutes later, Gotz wandered in. He took up a place leaning against a counter at the other end of the kitchen, however, no conversation seemed forthcoming. Instead, Ann watched him in confusion while he fixed her for some moments with an inexplicable look, then shook his head and walked out.

"Oookay. That was weird," Ann said to herself, watching the french toast brown as she wondered what the heck _that_ was about. Did she do something wrong? What could it be? Suddenly, she was struck by a thought—could it be what Harris said genuinely upset him? Gotz was very sensitive, and you'd have to be a fool not to see that he was very loyal to the memory of his wife. He might have been really insulted. She frowned. _Stupid Harris._

She tried to put Harris' comment out of her mind as brought Gotz his breakfast. "So how's your morning?" she asked cheerfully.

Gotz, not looking at her, grunted some sort of response. _Well, that's certainly a step down from the hello I got earlier_, she thought glumly. _Let's see if I can get him talking again._

Unfortunately, her next few attempts to get him to open up failed just as badly. So instead, Ann decided to do what she often ended up doing with Cliff: carrying the conversation herself. She informed Gotz that she was intending to only clean the living/dining area for a few hours this afternoon, and make up the rest of the time tomorrow. Today was Ellen's birthday, and she had promised Elli that she'd personally make Mom's famous chocolate cake for the party, which was being hosted at the inn. Ann had treasured the recipe when her mom had given it to her a few weeks before she died, and she only made it on very rare occasions to keep it even more special. Ellen's 80th birthday was certainly an event that qualified for the cake.

She told Gotz all about the party and the cake while he ate. Gotz nodded along to show he was listening, but said almost nothing, though he did seem to perk up a little. It really did remind her very strongly of talking with Cliff, except that Gotz didn't stare self-consciously at the floor.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come?" she called to him as she took his plate into the kitchen. When she came back into the dining room he gave her a "what do _you_ think?" look but softened it with a "no, thank you." She nodded and shrugged on her coat. "Well, I really should run home and bake. I'll come and clean while it's cooling, and then frost it right before the party. Think of how yummy and fresh it will taste—you still have a few hours to change your mind, you know. I'll ask you again before I leave this afternoon." She bowed before she headed out the door. "Bye!"

Gotz walked her to the door. She was happy to receive a rather upbeat—by Gotz's standards, at least—reply of "good bye" from him as he shut the door behind her. Ann smiled. Today was turning out great—and there was still Ellen's party yet to come! She was really looking forward to it. Almost everyone in town was coming. Though it was extremely unlikely, her smiled brightened as she allowed herself to fantasize about how cool it would be if Gotz came, too.

* * *

After Ann left, Gotz decided to kick around the house before he actually started the day's work. To his great annoyance, he found himself fidgeting a lot and unable to settle on any activity for more than a few minutes at a time. Well, it was no surprise why.

Despite his best efforts, all last evening and early this morning his thoughts insisted on dwelling on Ann. Well, at least it was only logical, he reasoned, seeing so much of her lately. The only person he saw more of was Harris, and given the choice, if he _had_ to think about one of them, Harris certainly wouldn't be his preference.

Harris. He was such an idiot. While Ann was cooking, Gotz had gone into the kitchen, intending to pour himself a cup of coffee, but had ended up stopping and staring at Ann, trying to imagine them as a couple. He just couldn't picture it and, shaking his head while wondering just where the hell Harris got his ideas, wandered back out of the kitchen without ever getting his drink.

It wasn't until a few minutes afterwards that he realized how weird his actions must have looked to Ann, and cursing himself, fell back onto the familiar pattern of dealing with uncomfortable social situations by grunting and being rude. But Ann sat down and talked to him while he ate breakfast in just as cheerful and carefree a mood as when she arrived. It was amazing how his crabbiness didn't seem to both her. She was so nice. It was impossible to stay embarrassed and awkward around her.

Still, part of him—well, most of him, actually—didn't like how comfortable it felt having Ann around. He sighed and sat down in front of the fire to warm himself. A fresh gust of chilly wind had blown in when Ann had opened up the door to leave, so the house was colder than usual. He was turning his hands back and forth in front of the blaze, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Ann dropped what he would have thought was a small makeup bag, only that Ann didn't look to wear makeup. Looking inside, he found her old high school ID, a zipped money purse, and pictures of her parents and friends. It must be what passed for her wallet, and probably fell out of her coat when she hung it up. Gotz got up and left it on a table near the front door where she'd see it when she came back.

However, when Gotz turned his attention back to the fire, he found himself continuously glancing back at the bag. Even though he knew Ann would be back in a few hours to claim it, he couldn't help but wonder if she was planning to buy the ingredients for the cake with the money she left behind. He kept picturing Ann hunting around in the cold and snow outside for where she might have dropped it, worrying that she was losing time to bake. Finally, he couldn't take in anymore and grabbed his coat with a grunt. God, this was annoying! He'd bring her back the thing so he could get some peace. It hasn't even been a half hour yet, so it shouldn't be too hard to find her.

He had Ann's bag in his pocket and his hand on the door before he could stop himself. What was he doing?! Here he was, about to crawl all over town deliberately tracking down a woman he hadn't wanted around him in the first place. He took out the bag and tossed it back on the table and retreated to the fire, shedding his coat. This was stupid. Just stupid. As far as he was concerned, his time with Ann couldn't be over soon enough.

* * *

Just around noon, Gotz had been hard at work in his toolshed for several hours of blissful solitude when he heard Ann talking to someone in his front yard. Well, there was only one person that could be: Harris, although he was arriving unusually early today.

However, much to Gotz's astonishment, when he rounded the side of his house he found Ann standing on his front porch deep in conversation with a ponytailed young man Gotz absolutely didn't recognize. Gotz frowned. Who was he?

Identity aside, one thing was clear—from the bashful way the boy was acting around her, Gotz had a strong suspicion that he was interested in Ann. The boy had been staring at his feet for some moments while Ann spoke to him, but then finally said something back to her. It made Ann laugh, and Gotz suddenly decided that he didn't like this guy.

He was momentarily stunned to find that Ann was dating someone, but then he felt a little stupid—of _course_ Ann would have a boyfriend. But… wasn't there actually a reason he thought she was single…? As he watched Ann playfully brush snow off of the boy's shaggy bangs, it was somehow hard to concentrate.

Ann finally noticed Gotz standing there. "Oh, hi! I don't think you've met Cliff. Not only was he nice enough to help me set up for the party, but then he valiantly braved the cold to walk here with me," she said, grinning at Cliff.

_Brave the cold was right_, thought Gotz, because though the boy was dressed in furs, he wasn't wearing a coat, and his arms were completely exposed to the elements. What, was he trying to impress Ann with his toughness or something? Idiot.

"You left your wallet here," Gotz said in way of a response. He'd be damned before he'd exchange introductions with this moronic delinquent.

"Did I?" asked Ann in confusion. She put her hand in her coat pocket. "Oh gosh, it _is_ gone! I didn't even know!" She grinned at Gotz. "Well, I'm glad someone honest found it. I mean, if Stu had found it, I'd never see it again, right, Cliff?"

Cliff laughed lightly while Gotz could only wonder who the hell Stu was. Another one of Ann's beaux? Gotz found himself frowning that he couldn't share the reference with Ann. The fact that someone like _Cliff_ could share it with her made Gotz feel for the first time a bit regretful that he was alienated from the rest of the town.

"So I'll see you later at the party, right?" Ann said rhetorically to Cliff. She pinched one of Cliff's skinny arms. "I'm going to make you eat all the cake you can stomach!"

Cliff grinned, rubbing his arm. "I'm looking forward to it." He had a very soft voice. Gotz didn't know how Ann could stand him.

Cliff waved a goodbye and started walking back to town via Jack's farm. Ann watched him go for a second before turning her attention to Gotz. "So, I wasn't expecting to see you yet. I thought you'd be working for a few more hours."

"I _am_ still working," said Gotz, before pausing in confusion. That's right, he _was_ still working. Why did he leave the shed? Because he heard Ann's voice, that's why. Could it be…?

He and Ann reached the same conclusion at the same time—"Ah-ha!" she exclaimed, pointing straight at his face in a mock accusatory manner. "You actually came out to _greet me_!" she said excitedly.

"I wouldn't say that—It's just—your wallet and…" Gotz said, stuttering.

"Aww! I feel so happy! You like me!" Ann said, looking really touched. She smiled that goofy grin of hers so brightly the warmth touched her eyes.

Gotz hadn't seen a smile like that in a long time. He could feel his cheeks coloring and was grateful for his beard. "Well—you're not as annoying as I thought you'd be," he conceded, rubbing the back of his head and looking away from her.

Ann snorted back a laugh. "You know, you'd be surprised how often I get that as a compliment!" she said, opening Gotz's unlocked front door. She stepped inside and Gotz followed her. She continued, "Gray—one of our permanent residents at the inn—he said that to me a few months after he moved in." She stomped her feet to get the snow off her shoes. "But now we're great friends. So that means, given time, you and I can be great friends, too." She smiled brightly again.

"Hnn," said Gotz, but didn't say aloud how unlikely that was. No need to dampen the Ann's spirit.

"Ah, you don't believe me," she said sagely, picking up her wallet from the table by the door and putting it back in her pocket. "But if it's so impossible, why did you not only come out greet me but, instead of going straight back to work afterwards, follow me inside the house for a chat, hmm?"

Gotz was stunned as the truth of what she said hit him. His jaw dropped. Ann, looking at his face, started snickering involuntarily. "Gosh, you look so affronted!" She held up her hands apologetically. "I was just kidding around. I know you came in to get some coffee or something. I'm sorry if I offended you by, uh, implying a false sense of intimacy." She smiled hesitantly, as if she were afraid he was really mad.

Ah. She misread his expression. Good. "It's fine," he said curtly, and realized he should head into the kitchen for the cup of coffee he "came in to get."

She grinned in relief and went into the kitchen with him. "Good. I don't mean to act like an idiot, but I was just really happy you were glad to see me at all. Unfortunately, my happiness tends to overflow into giddiness. My mom was like that, too, so blame genetics."

Gotz nodded, but didn't say anything as he poured his coffee. She opened the fridge and handed him some milk. "Well, I really need to start cleaning, or else I'll never make the party in time. Will I see you again before I go?"

Gotz quickly deliberated whether or not he should spend yet more time with her today. The fact he wanted to was exactly the reason why he shouldn't. "No," he said firmly.

"Oh." She looked disappointed. "Well, then I guess I should ask you again now. Would you like to come to Ellen's party?"

"No."

"Not even for the yummy cake?"

"No."

"Don't think I'm going to wuss out and save you a slice or anything. People who don't come to the party don't get to eat it. Can you honestly live without tasting the best cake in the world, which was lovingly prepared with my own two hands, using every ounce of my utterly amazing culinary skill?"

"I'll think I'll manage."

"Alright," Ann sighed, and pulled the bucket of cleaning products out from under the sink. "But…" She straightened up and, holding the bucket in her arms, looked him straight in the eyes.

Gotz was expecting a further silly boast about the cake until he saw how serious she looked. Puzzled, he met her gaze, unsure of what to expect. She suddenly colored and looked back down, shyly fiddling with the lip of the bucket. "It's just… I do wish you had said 'yes'…," she said finally, "And I just want you to know that I'll… miss you. The whole time." Pausing for a few moments, she then smiled awkwardly at him before turning quickly and walking out.

* * *

Ten minutes later in his work shed, Gotz was still replaying Ann's words over and over as he fussed uselessly around an unfinished endtable, trying to will himself to concentrate on work. Finally he gave up and sat down on a bench with a frustrated sigh, pondering why Ann's words were distracting him so. It was short work coming to a conclusion; he tried to remember the last time that someone asked him to go somewhere, not because it was for his own good, but because they genuinely _wanted_ him there. He couldn't.

No wonder Ann's declaration took him by surprise. After she had left the kitchen, he had stood in there, affixed to the spot—coffee cup in one hand, yet unpoured pitcher of milk in the other. His first reaction was to be _confused_ by what she said—why should it matter to her if he went or not? They barely knew each other.

But though he hadn't understood _why_ it should matter to her, he had known without a doubt that it honestly _did_. Her eyes weren't lying when she had looked at him and spoke those words. She honestly would… miss him.

Allowing this fact to wash over him, he had been unable to deny that part of him was feeling exceptionally pleased about it. It defied all rational explanation, because, as he acknowledged before, they barely knew each other. Why should it matter to him if she missed his company?

It certainly was a puzzle, but Gotz had the distinct impression that trying to solve it would stir up too many difficult emotions—and he had certainly made an art of avoiding painful feelings. Shrugging it off, he had decided, as he had so many times before, that now was not the time to think about it. Instead, he would get back to work. To that end, he had finished making his coffee, downed it as quickly as possible, put the cup in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen.

He knew he'd have to pass by Ann, as he had to go through the living room to get to the front door. He steeled himself against her potentially wanting to converse with him; however, he had been fortunate enough to find Ann busy polishing the mantle to the fireplace, her back to him. If she had heard him come in, she didn't turn to acknowledge him. Despite his determination to go back to work, he had paused for a second and let his eyes flick over her form. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could see that the tips of her ears were red. Was she flushed from the vigor with which she worked, or was it embarrassment…?

He had hesitated a moment before deciding it was better not to find out. Ending his foolish delay, he headed briskly out to what he thought would be a welcomingly distracting afternoon of work. _Well, that certainly didn't pan out_, he thought, grimacing at the untouched endtable.

He scratched his beard as he wondered what he should do. Continuing the afternoon in the moony state he was in was intolerable, but it was equally impossible to tell Ann that he had decided to accept the invitation. To go to a party where everyone in town was… a large crowd… old friends… he just couldn't do it. But since she was honest with him, maybe he'd feel better if he were honest with _her_ and just told her he'd miss seeing her, too.

Yes—it was true, wasn't it? He closed his eyes and let out a long breath as he finally accepted the reality of it. He genuinely liked her. He _would_ miss seeing her this evening.

_Well, that decides it_, he thought, and firmly resolved that he would _not_ to go and talk to her. After all, he'd better get used to not seeing her, because after she finished her hours tomorrow she'd have no more reason to hang around him. She'd leave him for good.

He knew it didn't have to be that way—that if he asked her to continue visiting him, she probably would agree to. But what would that accomplish? Aside from the fact that it reminded him of his family, Gotz cut himself off from the town because he swore to never again experience the devastation of losing someone dear to him. With no friends, Gotz had no one to lose.

Yes, it was clear Ann needed to go, and as soon as possible. Until he could get rid of her, he'd distance himself from her as much as possible. He'd stop caring for her ASAP, and soon this unpleasant feeling of missing her company would fade, and then disappear completely. With any luck, he'd be right back to his wonderfully numb existence soon enough.

Somehow, that thought didn't make him as happy as he felt it should.

* * *

To Ann's delight, Ellen's party was a huge success. Though now well into the evening, a good number of the attendees had yet to tire of dancing. Ann grinned as Karen shot a smile at her while dancing with Rick—Karen moving far more gracefully than Rick, but Rick more than equaling Karen's enthusiasm. Though Ann herself wasn't dancing at the moment—she was tending bar so her dad could have a crack at the dance floor—she had had a lot of fun dancing earlier, and was pleasantly surprised by the number of people who had asked her to dance with them.

Even though she was now rather tired, she wouldn't have been ungrateful to be asked to dance again. It would distract her from thinking about the giant fool she made of herself with Gotz. Though she was enjoying the party on a whole, she found that when she was left to herself, as she was at that moment, the smile would slip from her face. For the thousandth time, her words to Gotz replayed in her mind and she tried not to wince as she recalled his reaction to them. It couldn't have been worse. He had looked like a deer in the headlights, and, even more mortifying, he didn't say a word back to her, leaving her overactive imagination to fill in the blank.

Ann let out a short, irritated sigh. _What an embarrassing thing to do, assuming that he would _care_ if I missed him_, she thought miserably. _Now he probably thinks I'm some clingy weirdo._ _Why do I always blurt out things without thinking?! _Her spirits were reaching a new low, and she wished she had some sort of distraction: someone coming to order a drink, or saying hi, or even dropping a plate of food she could clean up. No such luck—everyone was either dancing or quietly enjoying their dessert.

Fortunately, wish number three was granted a few minutes later when Stu knocked half his glass of grape juice all over himself. Immediately volunteering to help clean him up, Ann asked Harris if he'd mind manning the bar, and then escorted Elli and Stu into the kitchen. Ann turned on the faucet and got out some soap, while Elli started wiping off Stu's hands and face with a dishrag. Normally, this would be where Elli would start scolding Stu for making a mess, but to Ann's—and undoubtedly Stu's—great relief, tonight she seemed too happy to care.

"Grandma looks very energetic, doesn't she?" Elli smiled to Ann as Ann took a foamy sponge to the stubborn stains on Stu's shirt. "She doesn't look tired at all, don't you agree? And did you see how she danced with the doctor in her wheelchair? It was so good of him to ask her. And after everyone saw she _could_ dance, people were constantly asking her. Isn't Tim smart?—Nobody else would have thought of her being able to dance like that but him. He's so good."

Ann smiled and was smart enough to have many good things to say about the doctor's brilliance. Elli glowed just as brightly at Ann's words as if the praise had been about her. "But Tim's always doing nice things for Ellen. He seems very attached to your grandmother in general," Ann added.

Stu chimed in. "Did you see the gift he gave Grandma? It was the biggest one! I want a present in a box that big for my next birthday. Only _I_ want a dinosaur robot inside."

"No, I missed her opening the presents; I was in the kitchen getting dessert ready at the time," Ann answered. She grinned at him. "By the way, did you like your grandma's cake?"

He grinned back. "It was reeeeally good! I wish I could eat it every day!"

Ann laughed. "Don't we all. But then you'd have to see the doctor about all your cavities and that's no fun."

"Cavities don't matter if they're only baby teeth," Stu told her.

"Stu!" scolded Elli, sharply. "You know better than that." She turned to Ann. "You just _have_ to see the doctor's present. It's so extravagant! I don't even know how to start thanking him for it."

"I'd love to see it!" said Ann, delighted to have something further to do after this task was finished. The busier she was the better.

After the stains on Stu's shirt were scrubbed to a faint lavender—the best they could do without bleach—they left the kitchen and Elli led Ann over to a wooden chair in the corner that had Ellen's presents piled on and around it. Ann quickly looked over the pile, trying to guess which was the doctor's present, but she didn't see anything particularly larger than anything else. "So which one is it?" she asked.

"Which do you think, silly?" Elli laughed, starting to remove presents from the chair. "The big one!"

Ann was confused for a moment until Stu climbed up on the chair and it _moved._ "Hey, that's not one of our—it's a new rocking chair!" she exclaimed, coming forward to help Elli move the presents away so she could see it better. The chair was a work of art—a light yet sturdy rocker made of highly polished wood that was tastefully bordered with carvings of ivy and the mythical Flower of Happiness.

Ann picked Stu up and put him on her lap as she sat in the chair. She pushed the balls of her feet against the floor and the chair smoothly and silently started to rock. "It's comfy!" she said. "Ellen must love it!"

Elli smiled brightly as she affirmed it was so, glancing fondly across the room at the doctor, who was deep in conversation with Ellen and Father Carter. She turned back to Ann. "You should see the rest of the presents, too," she said. Ann shook her head.

"Normally, I'd love to, but I really should be getting back to the bar," she said. However, between Stu's pouty face and her own desire for more conversation, Ann easily allowed herself to be strong-armed into being shown more of Ellen's presents. It was very entertaining, but Ann finally ended up get back to the bar much later than she originally intended. She grinned sheepishly at Harris. "Sorry for taking so long. I got sidetracked. It wasn't too busy, I hope?"

Harris shook his head amiably and smiled at her. "Nah, most people have stopped drinking, and anyway, you've been working for most of the party—I'm glad you took a break. What did you get sidetracked with?"

"I missed Ellen opening her presents, so Elli was showing them to me." Ann nodded her head over at the pile of gifts. "Did you see that chair the doctor gave her? It must have cost a fortune!"

Harris laughed. "Nah, I know for a fact it didn't cost _too_ much. Gotz did a really good job with it though, didn't he?"

Ann's eyes widened. "_Gotz_ made it? Wow! How do you know?" She craned her head back to look at it, wishing she had been paying more attention to it before.

"Well, the doctor asked me to place the order for him—most people do, rather than talk with Gotz themselves."

Ann snorted, her eyes still on the chair. "That's unsurprising."

"Indeed. With a less talented man it would really be a problem, but Gotz produces such amazing work that, as you can see, being anti-social doesn't impact his workload."

"Yeah…" said Ann, pensively. The chair _was_ beautiful. It was hard to imagine that something that looked so lovingly produced could come from a man determined to have no emotions at all. When she said something to the same effect to Harris, Harris chuckled. "You shouldn't be so hard on him," he told her.

"Please. I've been as nice to him as I possibly can. In fact…" Ann paused, coloring slightly, wondering if she should detail what happened earlier.

Harris looked at her curiously. "What is it?"

"Well, I invited him to the party—and he said no, of course. But… then I told him I'd miss his being here and he seemed… I don't know. Freaked out."

Harris chuckled. "And now you're embarrassed. I understand. I was like that when I first met him. But take it from someone who deals with Gotz everyday: just because _he_ has decided not to have any emotions doesn't mean _you_ have to forgo them, too."

"That's true…" said Ann.

"What's more, I think it's good for him to be around people with a normal emotional range." Harris smiled. "I do my part, of course, but I'm glad to have your help for the short stint you're there. So my advice is, feel free to miss him as much as you want tonight, and enjoy hanging out there as much as you possibly can tomorrow. Like I said, it can only do him good."

"Yeah… yeah, I guess you're right," said Ann, thoughtfully. "Thanks, Harris. I do feel a little bit better."

Harris nodded cheerfully. "I'm glad I could help."

Ann nodded in thanks, and the two of them chatted for a bit more before Harris made his way back to Mayor Thomas. However, Ann was not alone for long, because Karen, flushed from only having just stepped off the dance floor, soon made a beeline for the bar. Smiling, Ann slid a cold soda over to her before she even asked.

"Hey, thanks!" Karen said, gratefully sipping the drink and leaning against the bar. She sighed contently. "It's a great party, don't you think?" she said conversationally to Ann.

"It is! I'm very happy for Ellen."

"Hey, who wouldn't be? I hope I look that good when _I'm_ eighty." Karen said, brushing her hair out of her face. She took another sip of soda and glanced at Rick, who had taken a seat nearby. When she saw he wasn't looking, she whispered to Ann quietly, "Hey, can I ask a _really_ big favor?"

"Sure, what?" Ann said, curiously.

"Is there any cake left over?"

"A little. Why?"

"Well, I was hoping you could box a slice up for me, so I could give it to Rick tomorrow for Winter Thanksgiving. I'd make him my own, but…"

"Ah… I understand," said Ann, sympathetically. Karen was a terrible cook, though it wasn't from want of trying. "I'll certainly save you a piece. Remind me before you leave."

Karen smiled. "Thanks, Ann! You're a lifesaver!" Karen paused. "So… are you doing anything special tomorrow?" she asked.

"Just the usual," Ann replied. Ever since she was a little girl, Ann and her mom made a homemade treat for her dad every Winter Thanksgiving. Her dad was always good enough to made a big fuss over it, even during the years it was messily and unevenly frosted by a child under five. Now, after her mother's passing, Ann still faithfully continued the tradition alone. "Actually, between getting ready for the party, and… some, uh, other stuff that I've been doing this week… I completely forgot about the holiday," Ann said, mentally slapping herself on the forehead. Shoot. Tomorrow she would be busy for the entire day. Would she have time to fit making her dad's present in? _I suppose I'll have to make my Winter Thanksgiving chocolates at Gotz's,_ she thought.

"Oh," said Karen simply, looking not at Ann but at Cliff. "That's too bad." She shrugged casually. "Well, I'm gonna go back to Rick. I'll see you a little later, Ann."

Ann smiled as she said goodbye but squinted in confusion after Karen's retreating form. What was _that_ about? Did Karen think Cliff wanted to do something with her tomorrow? How silly! She and Cliff were just friends, not boyfriend and girlfriend! Besides which, Cliff had never even mentioned Winter Thanksgiving to her once! Of course, he never mentioned much of _anything_ to her, but still…

Karen couldn't be right, could she? Was it possible that Cliff actually wanted her to ask him out?

After deliberating for a few seconds, Ann dismissed the thought. With her tomboy attitude and looks, no one would _ever_ want to go on a date with her. Her dad's constant nagging made her first aware of the possibility, but her longstanding dating record of zero confirmed it. She sighed glumly_. Let's face facts, if it wasn't for the fact that Gotz was _forced_ to spend the day with me tomorrow, the only other man I could possibly spend Winter Thanksgiving with would be Dad._


End file.
